


my pretty bitch

by wilteddaisy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, Feminization, Incest, M/M, Manhandling, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:10:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilteddaisy/pseuds/wilteddaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' 16 and Harry's 19, and one day in school, a thought comes to Louis' mind; he'd quite possibly--no, actually--quite positively look good in girls' clothes. Harry comes home on hols from Uni unexpectedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my pretty bitch

**Author's Note:**

> this is weird, i've never posted anything i wrote on here before. i wrote this for my friend... maybe other people will like it, too. :)

‘I do look good,’ Louis would be thinking idly to himself later that day, fulfilling the answer to a thought he’d been pondering over during English class that morning. He had chewed on the end of his pencil, admiring his dreamy teacher as he explained their next assignment. He had happened to watch as the girl sitting in the desk behind him strutted up to the front of the class to sharpen her pencil. There was nothing special about this girl to Louis, no, but the way her white skirt had flounced around her bum as she walked and the way that her bright pink, lacy thong was visible through the fabric was intriguing. Somewhat, at least. He tried really not to think about it again, but when he got home, he had the perfect chance to take advantage of his alone time in the house. His younger sisters were still at day care and his twin, Lottie, had gone off to a mate’s straight from school. Louis thought that it would be one of the more awkward moments of his life if he was snooped on through a window or walked in on by a member of his family while trying on his sister’s clothes. But hey, he was pretty, and perhaps a bit feminine, too, so who was he to not try on clothes that were just as pretty? Also, Louis had a great ass. That was completely and utterly undeniable.

He dumped his schoolbag by the stairs where he usually did (his mum always complained) and jogged up the creaky stairs to the second floor. He felt oddly like he was being watched, and spared a glance over his shoulder each time he took a few steps down the hall toward Lottie’s room. When he reached it, he grabbed the door, shoved it open and went in, slamming it securely shut behind him. He knew immediately where to go first. Maybe it was a weird twin thing, he pondered, that they kept their underwear in the same drawer. And there it all was when he opened it; rows of pretty, colorful, lacy thongs and panties immaculately piled on top of each other. It couldn’t hurt to try a few. Louis smirked to himself as he grabbed a pink, laced one, then a cheetah printed one, and then a turquoise one that he smugly thought matched his eyes. He dropped those on the bedding and then skipped over to slide open the closet doors. Louis was almost stunned by all the color as it came into contact with his eyes. To be honest, he was prone to wearing bright trousers and multicolored jumpers, but Lottie had always been fond of sparkles, sequins, and neons; anything that could get her noticed. Louis wanted to be noticed. But for now, at least, he would be the only one to see. The only, very lucky one. He giggled under his breath.

Pursing his lips as he leafed through the hangers, Louis picked out a black, body-con dress, then a pale pink, gauzy, flowy dress, and then a denim mini-skirt that he imagined would cut just barely below the curve of his ass. With a playful smile he placed those on Lottie’s bed and started to strip himself of his own clothing; t-shirt, jeans, and briefs falling to the floor like 1, 2, 3. He tugged on the pink thong first, and couldn’t be bothered to think about the fact that he was really wearing his sister’s undies. Whatever. His dick made a small bulge in the front, and his happy trail that led to a dusting of dark hair near the base of his cock was pretty much completely visible. It should’ve been embarrassing, and it probably shouldn’t have turned him on as much as he felt it did. It was normal to be turned on by oneself, right? Hopefully.  
Louis pushed his fringe from his face and turned around in the full-length mirror against the wall, biting his lip to suppress the wideness of his grin as he inspected his ass. He’d seen his own bum naked more times than he could ever count, but the fact that there were thin, lacy, pink straps framing it made it even sexier, he thought. Louis picked up the body-con dress first and pulled it over his head. With a small chuckle it was obvious that he was lacking a little bit in the chest area, but the dress fit to the rest of his body like a glove, better than it fit to Lottie’s slim frame, he mused. The taut, black fabric hugged every curve of his body, tight around his flat chest and slightly raised over his little tummy, then stretched across his bum and thighs, almost so he could hardly move in it. He was honestly so amused by this that he shook his ass a few times in the mirror, made as if he was grinding on an invisible boy, because damn, he was fucking sexy in women’s clothes and not even a straight boy could deny that. In fact, Louis was so absorbed in looking at himself in the mirror and feeling up his plush ass through the dress that he didn’t hear the opening of the door downstairs, nor the shut of it, nor the thump of a heavy suitcase onto the floor, either.

If he had, he would have known that it was Harry. Harry, his step-brother, son of his step-father, step-son of his mother. Harry, who was 19 years old and attended a pretentious uni somewhere in London. Harry, who Louis had watched ever since he was a little kid, progress from an adorable, cherubic boy in his early-teens to a lanky yet muscular young man, with the same curly crop of hair on top of his head, just a little less curly and a little more wavy now. Louis had apparently forgotten that Harry was coming home for summer hols, and would be staying with the Tomlinsons until he left to his father’s bungalow to party and get drunk and shit with whatever friends he had left in Cheshire. If Louis had seen Harry walk in, if he had heard his deep voice call in confusion at the silence in the house, he would have watched him toe out of his shoes, place his coat neatly on the coat rack, and wander through the living room to the dining room and into the kitchen. “Jay? Girls?” Harry called, chewing on his knuckle as he ran his other hand through his hair, pushing it back into the greasy quaff that kept the bothersome hair out of his face. “Louis? Jay?” He yelled louder, then frowned. Johannah had mentioned to him when they’d talked on the phone that at the least Louis would be home, if not Lottie and possibly Felicite. He chewed on his plump lower lip, then jerked his head up toward the ceiling when he could hear a creak of the floorboards. It was practically like some horror movie; Harry was alone in a supposedly empty house with no response to his calls, but he could hear the creaks and footsteps of someone upstairs. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, dragging his feet as he traipsed into the hallway and toward and up the staircase. It was when he heard a soft voice down the hall—however comical the song it was singing was—he smiled. 

“If I was a rich girl, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, see I’d have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy giiiiiirl…” The gentle voice came melodically through the door at the end of the hall.

“Lottie, I know you’re in there,” Harry called with a smirk, and he didn’t hesitate a bit as he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and shoved it open. He was left with a sight to stare at, however, because it definitely was not Lottie. Her long, blonde hair was gone, replaced with softer, messier, caramel-colored fringe, and her thin, skimpy frame was now a softer, curvier figure. The older boy’s eyes were wide as he stared at his brother— Louis — in Lottie’s dress. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, because he’d just spent a year of uni fucking girls in the same kinds of dresses at parties, but Louis looked gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. He thought through all of this with his mouth still hanging open, eyes flickering from Louis’ face to his body.

“Harry,” Louis breathed, his whole face flushing pink as he covered himself up the best he could with his hands. “I didn’t—Shit, I forgot you were—It’s not what you think, really, could you please—“

“Sh,” Harry, who had seemed to gain his composure back, hushed simply, holding a finger to his lips as his lips curled up in a wild smirk. He stepped into the room slowly and slid the door shut behind him, licking over his lip almost hungrily. That’s how it looked to Louis, at least. “I won’t tell anyone, babe. Good to see you, first of all. You look lovely.” His words only deepened the blush on Louis’ cheeks, Harry thought with satisfaction, but they seemed to also relax him a bit, his shoulders loosening.

“Uh, thanks,” Louis murmured dumbly, balling his hands in a fist behind his back because he was in a fucking dress in his sister’s fucking room. He also had a fucking thong on, but Harry didn’t need to know that.

“Not who I was expecting to see here,” Harry said, walking over to sit on the bed next to the pile of panties and other dresses, resting his hands behind him on the mattress so he could lean into them. “But a pleasant surprise, regardless.” He chuckled quietly, quite obviously checking Louis out for the tenth time since he’d walked in the room about 60 seconds ago. “So, what are we doing? Playing dress-up? Can I join you?”

Louis blinked slowly at just how flirty Harry was being. This was his fucking brother, not some Senior from his PE class that liked the way he looked in his gym shorts. “Just—Just, er, trying on stuff,” he murmured quietly, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry if this is, like… Disturbing, or something, I didn’t know you’d be coming home. Well, I did, but it seems I forgot that very crucial fact and date, and now I’m standing here in a dress in front of—“

“You talk too much, babe. Still the same as always,” Harry laughed, shaking his head gently as he focused his eyes in on how curvaceous and thick Louis’ thighs looked, making the dress curve out obscenely over his hips. Louis just stared, rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels. “Anyway, can I join you? You never answered my question.” Harry raised his eyebrows. He had no fucking clue as to why he was being so needy and suddenly very horny, but he’d never been good at denying himself what he could easily take. Louis, his very attractive, very twinky, 16 year old brother, was here standing in front of him in a dress. It was an opportunity begging to be taken, as Harry saw it. He was going to take it, all right. As long as it was what Louis wanted. And he was pretty sure it was, based on the vulnerable but dark look in his eyes. Harry knew Louis knew that he was good-looking. Especially in a dress. Louis had always exuded that sort of mild confidence, and whenever he was asked about his self-image, he always ranked himself low. But something about Louis’ expression made Harry sure that he knew he was absolutely, positively irresistible.

“I—What do you mean?” Louis asked after a momentary hesitation, chewing on his fingernail. Harry was surprised they weren’t painted pink or something. 

“Can I watch? Watch you have some pretty girl-time to yourself?”

“Uh… Oh. Sure.” Louis swallowed thickly. Harry looked pretty intent. There was no way he was getting out of this one. But the fact was… That Louis wanted it. Whatever it was, he wanted it. And the small bump that protruded from the crotch of his dress showed it. In a few minutes it’d probably be way too obvious to ignore.

“Can I pick out something for you to put on, love?” Harry was already on his feet and in front of Lottie’s open closet, sliding the hangers around on the rod thoughtfully until he found what he’d been looking for. He smiled like he’d just won the lottery or a Miss Britain pageant and waved a hanger by his own face. It was a short (definitely short) skirt, kind of tutu style, made of light pink tulle. Oh no. “Put this on, pretty.” He smiled, slowly walking over toward Louis and holding it out to him. 

Maybe it was because Harry’s jeans were so damn tight that he walked so slowly or maybe it was because he did everything at the rate of his speech—No, Louis thought, he was teasing him. That’s why. Louis took the hanger from Harry, flinching when their fingers brushed. Harry looked smug, too smug for Louis’ liking. He needed to be more composed. So he tried to look confident as he unhooked the skirt from the hanger and laid it on the dresser right beside him, slowly pulling the dress over his head. He giggled slightly when he heart Harry’s hitch of breath at his nearly naked body and turned around just because he was a little slut and he needed, purely needed Harry’s roaming eyes on his perky bum. He took the skirt in hand and stepped into it, bringing it up just above his hips and letting the elastic waistband snap into place. Louis turned to look at himself in the mirror, pretending to be oblivious to Harry’s concentrated expression behind him. He pouted at how it made his tummy puff out just above the waistband but it flattered his legs and ass fantastically; the cut just at the top of his thigh made his legs look long but curvy in his calves and thighs, and when he turned to the side, his ass bulged out in a delectable way from just below the frills.

“Looks fucking hot,” Harry remarked suddenly, breaking the heavy silence between them in the room. 

Louis put his hands on his hips and smiled at him through the mirror. “Thank you.”

“Twirl for me.”

“What?”

“I said twirl. Spin around, bitch, show me just how pretty you look,” Louis was told in a suddenly very harsh tone. Harry stared at him in an expectant way that should’ve been creepy, but it just really made a hot flash go through Louis’ body from his toes to the apples of his cheeks. 

“O-okay.” Louis lifted his arms delicately and twirled around on his tiptoes for Harry, his fringe falling and getting caught in his long eyelashes. He could feel the skirt fly up around him and before he had time to register what was happening, there was a strong pair of hands at his waist and he was practically tossed onto Lottie’s bed. His fringe still blinded him and he frantically tried to reach up to brush it away but Harry’s hips were framing his and his hands were locked above his head, pinned to the duvet. Harry blew Louis’ hair from his eyes for him, his hot breath fanning out over his face. Louis’ heart was pounding rapidly now, probably audible from under his heaving chest.

Harry’s brows were furrowed and he gave Louis’ wrists a tight squeeze, eyes frozen on Louis’ big, blue ones. “Do you want me?” He mumbled, searching all features of Louis’ face for some sort of coherent answer. When he didn’t get one, only got a stuttered-out breath and a few blinks of Louis’ eyelids, his nostrils flared. “Fucking listen to me, slut, I asked you if you wanted me,” he growled, his teeth bared in an animalistic way.

Louis seemed to come to life from some sort of half-unconsciousness and he nodded briskly, muscles flexing under Harry’s strong fingers. “Yes, yes, I want you,” he whispered weakly. And it was true, he really did. He could hardly lie under Harry’s intense glare, and secondly, wasn’t he possible to resist?

Harry’s smirk was wild as he leaned down and crushed their lips together without a warning, his teeth scraping over Louis’ bottom lip and his tongue teasing at the corner of his lips. His mouth was gone as soon as it had come and seconds later, Harry’s hands were burning into Louis’ sides again, turning him around and tossing him onto the bed on his stomach, leaving him there to bounce on the springy mattress alone for a few breathless seconds. “Good whore,” he could hear Harry mumble to himself somewhere behind him, and there was a patter of blinds being shut and an unzip of trousers, then the soft thuds as Harry’s clothes hit the floor one by one. Louis was almost scared to look back, his shoulders tense as his eyes watched only the white comforter below him. When he was finally touched again, it was by Harry’s whole body completely covering his own, his hot, completely hard cock pressed between Louis’ exposed ass cheeks now that his skirt was rucked up. His warm chest was pressed all along Louis’ back except where it arched down into the mattress, and now his soft lips were on Louis’ neck. They weren’t soft for long though, because they soon turned into stinging nips and burning bites that would leave marks for days.

“You’ve been so bad, Louis, so bad,” Harry was muttering into his ear. Louis’ forehead was hot and he pressed it into the blanket, cool against his skin, but Harry’s hand was too quick and it had snaked around his head, fingers clamping over his forehead and tugging his head up from the mattress at a painful angle. “Aren’t you fucking gonna ask me why, bitch? Why haven’t you asked me?”

Louis’ eyes crinkled at the corners in pain and his teeth dug hard into his lower lip. “W-why?” he stuttered out, and it was nearly impossible to swallow.

“Because you’ve silently denied me this for all these years, whore. You’ve always paraded around in your tight, slutty clothes and I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me over the years, Louis. You were supposed to come to me, beg for me to fuck you, beg for my huge fucking cock in your pretty, little asshole, beg like a slut because you need me inside of you and you need my hands on your body and you need me up against you. But none of that happened, Louis,” Harry rasped into Louis’ ear, teeth tugging on his earlobe. He could hear the set expression of Harry’s face through his stiff voice. Louis let out a soft moan and nodded faintly, but apparently it wasn’t enough for Harry, because he let go of Louis’ head and reached down, yanking the lacy thong half way down his thighs. This made it easier for Harry to more deliberately rut against Louis’ ass, the head of his thick cock rubbing against Louis’ tight, pinched hole. “Answer me, bitch. Call yourself a slut,” he demanded, teeth sinking into the side of Louis’ neck.

Louis yelped and his face crumpled as he had to fight tears at the delicious pain. “I’m a slut, Harry, such a fucking whore for you, I’ll take your cock so well, make you feel so good,” he tried, voice almost pleading as he panted against the mattress.

Harry laughed loudly, sarcastically, bitterly, throwing his head back as he sat up, settling his heavy weight against Louis’ thighs. “That was fucking pathetic, bitch,” he cackled, shaking his head so his slightly damp curls fell in front of his face. Not that Louis could see. Harry’s eyes trailed up the length of Louis’ spine, from the poofy skirt that framed his bare ass to the back of his neck, and his lips curled up in a maniacal grin before he brought his hand down hard against Louis’ ass, square in the center of the cheek. He could tell it was unexpected because Louis cried out in surprise, in pleasure, and in pain, and turned his head to the side, attempting to look over at Harry over his shoulder. A small whimper escaped his lips. 

“What was that for?” Louis asked shakily, a red hand mark burning its way slowly onto Louis’ pale skin.

“Just giving you what you deserve, my little girl. My sweet little girl, my sexy bitch,” Harry murmured in a hoarse whisper, licking over his already wet lips as his toes curled behind him. Louis sounded wrecked, he regarded, and he hadn’t even started on him. 

Louis let out a small keening noise in acknowledgement and rested his cheek against the blanket. “Spank me again, Harry, please,” he whined, lifting his hips from the bed so he could wiggle his ass up in the air before Harry as best he could with the older one’s weight on his thighs. “Please, I’ve been bad, so fucking bad, give it to me hard.” Louis couldn’t even explain the sensation that shot up in his skin when Harry’s palm had struck him hard. It made him want to sob and moan and grab his own cock all at the same time, something he’d never experienced with the measly, worthless hook-ups he’d had in the past few years. It was always someone fucking him or sucking him off and calling him pretty, but it was nothing like this. Definitely not.

Harry laughed again, that deep, humiliating one that made chills run up Louis’ spine. “You think you get to choose, bitch? Do you really? Who’s in charge here, love? Tell me. Tell me who’s in charge.” He said this all very gently, murmured against Louis’ shoulder blade, but the words themselves were what made Louis whine softly.

“You.”

“I’m what?”

“You’re in charge, Harry.”

He seemed to be pleased with this resply as he started up the rutting again, rolling his hips forward against Louis’ ass, the hot press of his cock becoming more urgent by the second. Harry kissed Louis’ shoulder and pushed the hem of his tutu up, sprawling his hands on both of Louis’ ass cheeks to spread them apart, watching with intense eyes as his dick rubbed up continually between them. Every time Harry rocked forward the bed would creak and Louis would let out a soft pant, noise or a whimper, and that was when it came to Louis that Harry was most likely going to fuck him in a bed that was his sister’s. Harry was responsible, let’s hope he took care of whatever pathetic mess Louis would be making on her duvet.

There was sweat beading up on Louis’ shoulders when Harry’s large hands took him by the hips and rolled him over, so roughly that the mattress squeaked and bounced him a bit. Louis looked up at Harry’s daunting figure above him, knees framing his own hips, his long, lean cock curved up against his toned tummy, and his tattoos standing out from his smooth skin in the dim light of the close-curtained room.

Louis noticed then that Harry had been watching his features for a while with a peculiar, almost fond look on his face, but his green eyes darted away before he could let himself continue with that. His slack lips were curled up in a sneer again, biting his lower one as he dragged himself up Louis’ body, sitting so their cocks nudged up against each other’s. Louis breathed heavily.

“My, my, slut, look how dirty you are,” Harry breathed, circling his fingers around Louis’ cock, and all Louis could see was the head peeking out from behind the stained tulle of the skirt. There was pre-cum dribbling from his slit and onto the fabric. Louis let slip a little, weak noise when Harry’s giant thumb wiped it off, and watched with wide, blue eyes as Harry sucked it off his thumb with a pop, plump lips forming around the digit. “You’re so wet for me already, little girl. We’ve hardly even started, love, and you’re already so turned on, so wet,” snarled Harry, nose wrinkling up at the bridge along with his wry grin. 

Louis nodded frantically because, in truth, it was all for Harry, and his cock was heavy and thick and wet and if the taller boy kept up with this act, it’d be in need of release. 

Harry swiped a few fingers over the pre-cum on Louis’ skirt and leaned over his smaller body, coaxing Louis’ lip down before he forced the fingers into his mouth. Louis could do nothing but taste his bitter self on Harry’s skin as he closed his eyes and sucked on Harry’s fingers until they were shining and covered in his saliva. Louis seemed to always miss a lot, and he did just then, because while his eyes were closed, Harry was looming over him, eyes on his face and lips and long eyelashes with a dark, lusty, yearning look.

When Harry finally pulled the fingers from Louis’ pink mouth there was a string of saliva that ended up across Louis’ chin, but Harry was in no mindset to care about how messy Louis was going to get. 

“I’m not gonna prep you, I’m gonna finger you. S’not ‘cos I don’t want it to hurt you, it’s ‘cos I wanna see you come apart at my fingers, yeah?” Harry smirked, watching as Louis spread his thick thighs for him. “There’s a difference, yeah?”

Louis merely blinked and sucked his wet lower lip into his mouth. He was far too preoccupied with focusing on his breathing and how sexy Harry was and how his voice made his blood curdle rather than actually listen to what he was saying.

“Listen to me, you fucking slut,” Harry rasped and flipped Louis onto his stomach again, face pressed into the mattress as he nodded. He didn’t even get to finish the nod before he was yelping in sudden pain when Harry’s hand smacked him across the same side of his ass, then his fingers hungrily kneaded into the red, pained skin. Louis whined when Harry eased a wet, long finger into his hole, as gentle as it sounded, but he then quickly moved it in and out and in deeper, thrusting his wrist. He clenched around Harry’s finger and his breath caught, because it was suddenly so much all at once, all happening in the matter of a few minutes. 

“You’re supposed to relax, whore. Thought you’d be used to this by now, based on the amount of boys I imagine you let fuck you all the time,” Harry murmured with an almost jealous edge to his voice. “You’re a slut, aren’t you, Louis?”

Louis had learned by now to reply in an instant. “Yes, I’m a slut, such a slut,” he whimpered, but it ended up a desperate, muffled moan when Harry prodded a second, slick finger against his rim. Within a few seconds he was pumping two fingers in, scissoring Louis open and spreading his fingers inside of him. Louis could feel Harry’s murky eyes burning into his skin as he squirmed against the blankets, small fingers curling around the duvet. His thighs were spread as far as they could go—Louis always did pride himself for being pretty flexible—and his body was gyrating slowly, finding friction against the mattress and fucking himself back onto Harry’s fingers. He could also hear the smirk on Harry’s lips as he breathed out slow and quiet, and then there was a third finger pulsing deep inside of him, opening him up.

It was his clouded mind that did it, Louis swore, as he arched up from the mattress to reach a little hand down for his cock; clouded with thoughts of Harry and Harry’s hands and Harry’s cock. He had to push the tulle of the skirt out of the way so he could grip his own dick and squeeze the base, but Harry was far too quick to resist Louis’ self-pleasure. Harry’s free hand shot out and grabbed Louis’ elbow, wrenching his arm away, at which he received a high-pitched moan from Louis. His fingers were still working him open.

“Didn’t tell you to fucking touch yourself, did I, slut? Fuck, trying to make yourself feel good, are you now, little girl? Such a fucking selfish, little whore,” Harry was growling behind him. Louis tried to choke out words of apology, but all he got out were hot breaths and needy whimpers. Harry didn’t seem to be too pleased with this because suddenly he was gone, completely disconnected from Louis’ needy body. His fingers were gone and Louis felt empty as his hole clenched around air, and the weight of a body was lifted from his thighs, now feeling like a feather compared to before. Louis propped himself slowly up onto his elbows, lifting his head to carefully peer around the room with an unwarranted whimper from his throat. He choked out another cry when Harry’s large hand spanked him straight across the ass again and he rolled him onto his back. Louis stared up at Harry, his long, lean and muscular naked body pinning his hips down into the mattress. “Did you think I’d let you touch yourself again? Did you think you’d really get away with it?” He asked with a low cackle, revealing a white scarf in his hands. He’d undoubtedly snatched that from Lottie’s closet, Louis thought wryly, but he didn’t get a chance to think about the purpose of the scarf before it was given to him on a silver platter. Harry grabbed Louis’ wrists from the mattress, holding them both in one hand and pressing them hard against one of the poles in Lottie’s headboard. With nimble fingers, Harry wrapped the scarf around them and tied a tough knot around Louis’ wrists. 

Louis’ eyes were round by now and when he struggled against the scarf, he was completely trapped. 

“Can’t please yourself now, girl, can you?” Harry asked with a manic smile, and Louis thought that for a moment, Harry might’ve been insane. But he, himself, probably looked just as insane, sweaty hair mussed above his head, voice gone and left with incoherent noises, and his eyes rimmed with red. Oh, and, he was still wearing that tulle skirt, he thought uselessly. He shook his head in response to Harry and got a grin back, watching as Harry’s warm palms rubbed up the length of Louis’ chest. He squeaked softly when the pads of Harry’s fingers stroked over his hard nipples, and then pinched the sensitive nubs. Louis’ teeth left marks in his lower lip as they dug in, and he couldn’t help but squirm under Harry as he moaned, muffled inside his mouth. The crazy part about it was that their gazes were connected the whole time; Louis’ desperate, wild, trapped, defenseless eyes watching Harry’s gleeful, lusty, smoldering ones. Louis hummed in surprise when Harry leaned in and pressed a gentle, light kiss to Louis’ swollen lips, but the niceness of it all was quickly diminished when Harry squeezed his nipples again, then left a wet mark behind when he flicked his tongue over one whilst crawling back down Louis’ body.

He felt like Harry’s hands were everywhere, their presence leaving a touch behind that lasted. He could still feel Harry’s fingertips on his nipples as he tipped his head back and moaned out as Harry palmed at his balls and then pressed a dry finger to his worked-out rim. His wrists were starting to chafe.

“You still nice and open for me?” Harry asked, eyes unmoving from Louis even as he got to his knees on the floor, grabbing his jeggings and slipping a condom out of the back pocket. Of course he carried condoms around, Louis mused with a little smile, but he wiped that off his face quickly as Harry got back onto the bed.

Louis watched with lascivious eyes as Harry ripped the condom open with his fingers and teeth and pulled it on. His hands twitched within their binding with the need to roll it onto that big cock for him, like he was used to doing with other boys. Louis took note of the fact that it was extra large with a grain of salt, and when Harry looked up from his dick to look Louis in the eyes, there was an insistence in his blown pupils that made Louis’ stomach twist itself into a knot. 

“You ready, Louis? You ready to take my cock like the fucking whore you are?” Harry asked, bending over Louis and pressing his palm into the mattress at one side of Louis’ ribcage, the other hand holding onto his cock as he aligned himself. Louis felt sort of trapped, a dimness washing over him when Harry’s body cast a shadow on his skin, but then again, he wanted this so, so fucking bad, and he didn’t know if he’d ever get a chance like this again. To be fucked by his 19 year old step-brother while wearing a pretty, pink skirt. Kinky. Louis let the slightest smirk grace his face.

Harry’s own smile dissipated at the sight of Louis’ and his pupils blew up impossibly larger, locking out hardly any sight of the pretty green that had surrounded them not long before. He let out a small grunt of breath that swept over Louis’ face and pushed in with a smooth thrust, stretching Louis’ already stretched hole even further. Louis’ face scrunched up in pain and his hands helplessly groped the air for something to hold onto. He let out a sharp cry and tried to hide his shameful face in his shoulder, because Harry was fucking huge, nothing compared to the premature, 15 and 16 year old cocks he’d been fucked by before. Louis knew that even trying to grind down would only increase the pain he was in, but slowly that pain was overpowered by an overwhelming sense of pleasure that rocked in waves through his body, causing him to lift his legs up slowly and wrap them around Harry’s waist. 

Harry’s face was blank but intense as he watched Louis react in the best ways to his littlest movements. He watched the goose bumps rise up on Louis’ arms when Harry nudged in a bit deeper, nestling his hips against Louis’ comfortably with the smaller boy’s cock flush against both of their tummies. He watched as Louis’ wet, raw lower lip stretched when he opened his mouth to moan throatily, and he watched as Louis’ chest moved up and down when he breathed in and out with difficulty. Little did Louis know that this was just the beginning.

“You like that, my little bitch? Bet it feels so good when I fill you up all nice and gentle like we’re about to make love,” Harry mumbled breathily against the side of Louis’ neck, and in response he got a hazy nod of satisfaction from Louis. He was able to watch Louis’ long eyelashes fall shut from this angle, and he had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t mind making love to such a beautiful boy. But that wasn’t what he was there for, not now, not when Louis was dressed in a skirt for him and tied up at the wrists to Lottie’s headboard.

Louis licked his lips, searching his head for comprehensible words. “Want… Wanna touch you, Harry,” he whispered, brows crinkling and creating the cutest of lines between his eyebrows.

Harry sat up halfway, enough that Louis’ legs wouldn’t slip off of him and deprive him of a great angle to fuck into him at. He rested his forehead against Louis’, pinching his chin between his fingers as his eyes bore down on Louis’ closed, delicate eyelids. “We can’t always get what we want, can we, babe?” he whispered, lips lightly brushing Louis’ as he spoke. “We’re not here to be touched. I’m not here to be touched. I’m here to fucking ruin you, slut, fucking pound you into your sister’s mattress until you see white. That clear, my pretty bitch?”

Louis gave a pained nod, resting his head back against his arms that were tightly wrung above him. His nose nudged against Harry’s and the older boy took that as a ‘yes’ and nothing else, pressing a wet kiss to the corner of Louis’ lips before he planted his hands into the mattress on both sides of Louis’ waist and bent his knees for the right, strong amount of leverage. Louis winced below him when Harry’s cock shifted inside of him and his lip even quivered a bit, and bloody hell, Harry was going to wreck him. Wreck him so bad.

Tenseness built up in Harry’s shoulders and his fingers dug menacingly into the mattress as his hips started to rock, fast and hard, fucking into Louis so the younger boy’s back bumped against the headboard in a bruising way. Louis let out a small cry at each of Harry’s thrusts, slowly losing his voice over time to nothing but needy pants and voiceless whines filled with only the pitch of his breath.

Louis was dizzy and his vision was a complete blur in his eyes, seeing nothing but an occasional bit of chocolate curls and Harry’s inked skin. His wrists rubbed painfully against the scarf as he fought against it, writhing under Harry at the imminent pain in his ass, but somehow at the same time, his heels were digging bruises into Harry’s lower back as he fucked himself down on Harry’s dick, his back barely even touching the mattress except when Harry would meet his hips with a hard thrust that sent Louis shooting back against the mattress. 

Louis’ skirt scratched against Harry’s lower stomach and he growled when Louis was silent minus his breaths. He was pounding into him now furiously, and the noise of Louis’ ass slapping against Harry’s skin could probably be heard throughout the house as he fucked him harder, harder, harder, cock slipping in and out of Louis’ stretched, puckered hole.

“Oh, Harry…” Louis whimpered softly, a steady stream of salty tears prickling the corners of his eyes and leaving red trails along his cheekbones as they flowed down. “Feels good—Fuck.”

No. That wouldn’t do. Harry narrowed his eyes, moving his hands from the mattress up to Louis’ sides, where they would drag down his skin to his hips, his nails digging red, angry marks. He got up onto his knees, holding Louis steady by the hips, ensuring that his legs stayed connected behind Harry’s back. Harry let a grin slip onto his mouth when he found Louis looking at him with nervously accepting eyes. 

“You’re gonna like this, princess,” Harry whispered, lips pursing as he smiled. He arched back a bit, letting his dick shift partly out of Louis’ hole. He took a moment to look down and appreciated exactly what he was holding; Louis’ skirt had upturned to cover his tummy, and now the boy was dangling between the hurtful bondage and where he sat against Harry’s cock. His own dick was pink and full and messy against the underside of the skirt, his balls looked achy, and his hole was filled to the brim with Harry’s cock, lovely and pink around the green condom. 

“My pretty, little bitch, little princess,” Harry breathed out before dropping his head back and slamming into Louis, hitting that bundle of nerves deep inside of him on the first thrust. Louis screamed out, his voice cracking as he squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for a breath that he couldn’t catch when Harry kept going, kept fucking him fast and heavy and unyielding. Louis’ face was red with the flush that crept all the way down his body, and his tears were almost cool and calming against his burning skin, but fuck, he’d never been so aroused. Harry’s large hands were canvassing his hips and groping his ass cheeks as he pounded in relentlessly, and Louis, through his bleary sight, could see the massive vein bulging at the side of Harry’s neck as his jaw clenched.

“Harry, Harry, oh—oh, Harry, fuck, more,” Louis breathed and whined out in rhythm with Harry’s thrusts. It became almost painful to speak because he was being fucked so hard and his body was stretched out like a hammock and Harry was continuously smashing into his prostate. He was pretty sure Lottie’s scarf was breaching his skin and he might be leaving small, bloody stains on his twin’s purely white scarf but somehow that was sexy too, that Harry was pulling him apart thread by thread until he was laid out raw for him. Like he was now.

“You like that, don’t you, whore? You like being fucked like a whore, ‘cos that’s what you are, innit?” Harry said, sounding almost as wrecked as Louis felt, because he could hardly make out the words leaving Harry’s pink mouth.

“Yes, yes…” Louis panted in reply, throwing his hips down against Harry’s dick, his body writhing against the air as he squirmed in a sweaty, hopeless heap of pre-cum and desperation.

“You gonna cum for me, bitch? Gonna make a dirty mess all over your sister’s pretty skirt, little girl? I don’t know if she’d be too happy about that, but then again, you look prettier in it than she does.” Harry smirked, enjoying the deep, deep red that bloomed in Louis’ tear-stricken cheeks. “You’re really so wet, so, so wet, I wouldn’t be surprised if…” He murmured hoarsely, punctuating every other syllable with a harsh slam into Louis that made his body rock backwards and shake. “… If you came all over both of us soon, such a good little slut, take my dick so fucking well—“

Harry didn’t even get to finish rasping out his words before Louis let out a loud, breaking sob that echoed through the room, fat tears falling down his cheeks as he moaned and squealed and cried, cum splattering all over Lottie’s skirt and his soft stomach as Louis’ cock twitched in final release. He was sensitive all over, from his tender wrists to his puffy nipples to his flaring hole. Utterly incapable of another word, he simply let out the tiniest of whimpers as Harry fucked him into oblivion so he could cum, too. Louis had the devious thought that he really, really wanted Harry to cum in him without the condom, wanted to feel all of that inside him for real, but he was far too gone to voice his pleads. Harry groaned suddenly and Louis could feel him fill up the condom inside of him when he came.

For those next few, sluggish minutes, Louis might have been unconscious, for he couldn’t see and his skin felt numb as Harry pulled out of him. He heard the condom being tied and tossed onto the floor, and he barely felt it when Harry untied the scarf from around his blistering wrists, arms falling limply to the mattress. His back touched the coolness of the sheets and it felt fucking amazing against his sweaty skin. At some point, he felt the mattress dip beside him as Harry climbed on. His chin rested gently against Louis’ shoulder and his soft lips touched his earlobe. 

“You’re such a beautiful girl for me, Louis. You’ll always be the prettiest to me.”


End file.
